The Things We Lost
by Xx.Triple A.xX
Summary: Single father Jean Valjean finds himself in a quandary when his adoptive daughter is stolen from their home in Republic City and the police refuse to help him locate her. He ends up with an unlikely ally in the form of Inspector Javert, a police officer who rose in the ranks despite a significant handicap. Can they work together to find Cosette before it's too late?


**Opening Authoressial Note: **So, I'm working a full-time job this summer and in between giving tours and licking stamps, I like to think about fic ideas. Les Mis (and specifically, the relationship between Javert and JVJ) has been a longtime passion of mine, and I recently watched S1 of Legend of Korra for the first time. (I know, I know, season 3 is already out. I am a latecomer. I beg your forgiveness.)

As things turned out, introducing LoK to a girl who is almost constantly thinking about Les Mis AUs was inherently dangerous. One day in my office as I was innocently folding letters and listening to Pandora Radio, I suddenly sat bolt upright as I was hit by a stroke of genius. "LES MIS OF KORRA AU," I yelled, but quietly and in my mind, because loud noises tend to frighten my other cubicle-dwellers.

And thus, what you see before you was born. The original concept was meant to be little more than an explorative oneshot, but I should know myself better than that by now. Welcome to the fic version of the full-length feature film I've been devoting my mental energy to during mundane office tasks.

* * *

"Papa, can airbenders live in the sky?"

Jean Valjean smiled down at his adopted daughter, who was gazing across the sea at Air Temple Island. The sun sparkled off her golden hair as it was ruffled by the light ocean breeze.

"Well, they cannot remain in the air indefinitely, my love. But before Aang, they certainly lived very high up, in mountain temples far above the clouds."

Cosette gasped, clearly even more awestruck than earlier. "A temple? Papa, is that like a castle? I would dearly love to live in a sky castle."

"Well, perhaps it can happen one day," Valjean uttered impulsively. Scooping her up into his arms, he smiled at her sudden shriek of laughter. "But for now, it is time to return to our regular old ground castle."

"You're silly! We don't live in a castle, we live in a regular old house. But it's a very nice house," she added quickly, her demeanour abruptly changing from one of carefree bliss to concern. "Much cleaner, and bigger, than the Thenar - Thena - Thenardur's whole inn!"

"Thenardiers, dearest," Valjean corrected her gently. "And you needn't clarify. I will never, ever send you back to them, even if you compared our house to a hole in the ground."

Cosette wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're the best papa ever, did you know?"

Valjean chuckled, adjusting her position on his hip as he strolled toward the main street. "Well, I might have forgotten. The last time you told me was this morning, after all."

Their trip home was fairly uneventful until they reached the park square, where a large group of people were clustered around a man standing on a makeshift stage. As Valjean navigated around them, Cosette twisted in his arms to get a better look at what was going on.

"Benders are a menace to society!" the man screeched, clearly not particularly adept at public speaking. "They're cornering the job markets and wreaking havoc on the lives of normal people like us!"

"That's not true!" Cosette exclaimed, her fingers crumpling the fabric of Valjean's coat. "Bending has nothing to do with whether you're good or bad! Right, Papa?"

"You're absolutely right, Cosette. But hush, or they might hear you. These are angry people, interested in no opinion but their own. Wait till we're home, dearheart."

By the time Valjean unlocked their front door, Cosette had had plenty of time to contemplate and formulate her argument. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she whirled around and burst out,

"That man was _wrong_! You can be a bad person and bend, but being able to bend doesn't make you bad! Avatar Aang could bend all four elements, and he was a good person, and the Fire Lord was a bad person - but not because he could bend fire! He was just - he was just _bad_!"

"I know that, dearest, and so do many other people. The people in the park were just… upset. A lot of people have been hurt by the gangs, who can all bend various elements; as a result, they've learned to associate bending with bad things, and bad people."

"Well, I was hurt by benders too, and you don't see me standing around yelling about it!" Cosette shouted. Valjean barely managed to hold back a laugh, but he couldn't keep himself from smiling.

"I hate to contradict you, my love, but you're doing exactly that. You're simply taking the opposite side of the argument, that's all."

"Oh." Cosette deflated, but only briefly. "But… I guess, the Thenardurs were bad people who used their bending to do bad things. Their bending didn't… it didn't use _them_."

"But they only bent fire and water. What if one of them had been an earthbender?" Valjean inquired as he helped her wriggle out of her coat. "Then you might have been frightened by me, as well."

Cosette shook her head emphatically. "_No_. You used your bending to help me! As long as there are good intentions behind it, no kind of bending could ever be frightening."

Valjean chuckled, the sound deep and gentle. "Well, I'm not sure I would go that far, Cosette. You know, even I've been frightened by some bending, in my time."

Cosette turned around to stare at him with wide eyes. "Really?! Was it the Thenardurs?" she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because they really weren't that good."

The chuckle became a full-blown laugh. "No, no, it wasn't them. It was no one you know, and nothing you need to worry yourself with. Besides, I was much younger then, and perhaps my fear was due to my youth."

Cosette puzzled over this for a moment. "So you wouldn't be scared of them anymore… because you're older? And you've seen more bending?"

"Exactly. Clever girl," Valjean praised her, reaching out to tousle her hair fondly. "But we have more important matters at hand. What do you want for dinner? I was thinking steamed cabbage and sausage."

"Can we have cake too? I want cake!"

Valjean breathed an internal sigh of relief as Cosette's sweeth tooth replaced her sudden foray into the world of politics. "Yes, of course. We do have some cake that we need to get rid of. But the cake comes after we eat actual dinner, not before."

* * *

For the next few days, Valjean was careful to avoid the park on their daily walk. As much as he encouraged Cosette's mental growth and praised her intelligence, he didn't want her getting involved with the Equalist debate - she was far too young for that. He chose to take her along the city docks instead, distracting her with the coming and going of commerce and explaining the anatomy of ships.

At a market near the docks, they stopped to get fried sharktopus tentacles for an afternoon snack. Paying the vendor, Valjean turned with a smile to present Cosette with hers, only to realize she was no longer by his side. The world blurred around him, everything becoming a dull roar of motion and sound as his gaze frantically darted across the crowd. He was more aware of the movement of his lips than the fact that he was actually calling her name, his grip on the snacks tightening as though they were his last connection to her in the world.

Coming to an abrupt halt, he forced himself to take a deep breath and close his eyes. "Calm down," he murmured under his breath. "Blind panic will not help. I must be calm - "

"You're WRONG! You're _all_ wrong! And _stupid_!"

Valjean's eyes flew open. "Cosette?!"

While his daughter failed to respond, he could still hear her as she launched into a tirade. A small crowd had gathered a short distance away in the direction of her voice, and it was towards this that Valjean rushed. As his feet carried him closer, his hearing became clearer, along with his perception of the situation.

"Insulting me won't change the facts, little girl. People who can bend are the enemy! Bending might have made _living_ easier, but it's made _our lives_ harder. Can you bend? Ah, you can't? Then why are you defending them? Don't you get made fun of at school, just because you can't build a sandcastle at the snap of your fingers?"

"That's not the _point_!" Valjean heard his daughter shrill as he shouldered his way through the crowd. "You're saying that just because you can bend, that makes you bad. There have been _plenty_ of bad people who couldn't bend!"

"Oh, is that so? Name one!"

"I can't think of one right now!" Cosette fired back. "But there are!"

"Anyway, you're a little mixed up," the announcer continued, lowering his voice a little. "We're not saying people who can bend are _bad_; just that people who _can't_ bend are at a disadvantage. Benders strut around this city like they own it - the gang violence is only one example. What about the rest of us? We can't do anything if someone shows up to take our possessions, or hurt our families! Why, just the other day, a shopkeeper and his children were - "

He broke off with a small shriek of terror as the table in front of him that held a number of Equalist pamphlets abruptly cracked in two. The pillar of stone that Valjean had raised from the ground sank back into place as he glowered at the announcer from where he had come to stand behind Cosette, laying one hand on her shoulder.

"That's enough. Don't you think she's a little young for you to be telling her that sort of thing?"

Rather than respond in any kind of contrite manner, the announcer jabbed an accusatory finger at Valjean. "_This_ is the sort of thing I'm talking about, young lady! Thinking he can shut me up just by throwing a few rocks around and showing off how powerful he is! Go ahead, drop a boulder on me. You _know_ what I'm saying is _true_!"

"It's NOT!" Cosette shouted back at him. "He's my _father_ and he'd _never_ hurt anyone!"

The announcer seemed a little taken aback by this statement; adjusting his glasses, he leaned forward and squinted at the young girl. "If he's your father, why can't you bend?"

"There are plenty of children with bender parents who can't bend," Valjean began defensively, but Cosette was too fired up to back down now.

"He doesn't have to be _related_ to be my _father_! I know the difference between good benders and bad benders because he's a _good_ bender who rescued me from _bad_ ones! _Just because you can bend doesn't make you a bad person_!"

The air rang with the force of her shriek, more noticeable because of how silent everyone else had gone. Even the announcer, previously so sure of himself in winning an argument against a little girl, looked taken aback. Deciding to take control of the situation, Valjean scooped Cosette up into his arms and walked away. She started to argue, but he cut across her words with his own.

"Cosette, what have I told you about wandering off by yourself?"

She had the grace to look immediately contrite. "You said not to," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Yes. And what did you do just a few minutes ago?"

"I went off by myself." She paused and lifted her head. "But Papa, it was that man from the park, and he - " She broke off at the sight of the stern look he was giving her. "Never mind. I'm sorry."

"Well, as long as you're sorry," Valjean said coolly, and offered her one of the sharktopus tentacles. "Maybe this will help calm you down. I've never seen you so hotheaded before."

The Equalists watched them go, the announcer still a little slack-jawed until a taller man approached the table and pressed his mouth closed with the tip of one black-gloved finger.

"For a bender to give birth to a normal child is not unheard of. Indeed, it is fairly common. But to take one in willingly seems a little off the mark."

"A little?" scoffed someone in the crowd. "More than a little, I'd say. Sure, that kid might be a non-bender, but she was still pretty odd. I've never seen someone with that color hair before!"

"Indeed," the gloved stranger mused. "What a fascinating turn of events, gentlemen. Indeed, I would say this presents us with a rather unprecedented opportunity." The announcer flinched back as a red-glinting gaze was turned upon him. "Wouldn't you?"

* * *

For the whole of the next week, rain poured down hard and heavy. Valjean was perfectly content to stay indoors, and while Cosette attempted to appear as though she felt the same, it was clear that she was growing restless. This became most evident near the end of the week, when Valjean caught her listening to the pro-bending preliminaries on the radio.

"Cosette!" he exclaimed as she leapt to shut the radio off. Her fumbling grasp hit the switch, but also unbalanced it, causing it to topple to the floor. "What have I told you about that?"

"That I'm not to listen to it because it's inappropriate for young ladies," she mumbled sulkily, picking up the somehow unbroken radio. Valjean sighed.

"If you know that, why are you listening to it? It's unlike you to act in this fashion."

Cosette looked like she wanted to retort, but thought better of it at the last minute and hung her head. "I'm sorry, Papa. It's just… I suppose I'm used to going outside every day, that's all. I'll behave."

Valjean crouched down to toy with a lock of her hair. "Take heart, dear. It can hardly rain forever. At the first sign of sun, we'll be out and about."

"Promise?" Cosette demanded, her blue eyes widening as she stared up at him. Valjean's gray-green ones crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

"I promise. Now, how can I help to alleviate your boredom?"

The girl thought for a moment, then clapped her hands together decisively. "Tell me about how you rescued that man when the cart fell on him! I like that story."

"Ah, yes, Fauchelevent," Valjean chuckled. "I can't imagine why you like that story so much. I didn't even use my bending to save him."

"But that's why it's great!" Cosette explained, clambering onto the sofa. "Lots of people use their bending to do things, but you can do all kinds of things without it from when you got really strong before you knew you could bend."

"It seems silly, to hear you say it," Valjean sighed, taking a seat beside her. "How does it take someone years to realize they're a bender? And even after I found out, I wasn't very good at it. That's why when the cart fell on Fauchelevent, my first thought was not to lift it with the stone the street was made of, but rather with the muscles I'd built up from years of field work…"

By the time Valjean had finished narrating his tale, Cosette had fallen asleep. The earthbender chuckled, gently brushing her hair out of her face.

"An acceptable reaction to the dronings of an old man. Sleep, then. Life is nowhere near as dull in your dreams."

Rising from the sofa, he shook out a blanket and draped it carefully over her, almost entirely obscuring her small form from view. Smiling at the sight, he left the room and made his way to the front door, thinking to step out and check on the weather.

Rain continued to fall, but gently - nothing like the torrential downpour of earlier - and the sky could be seen clearing up in the distance, the setting sun pouring through and glinting off rain-soaked rooftops in a fair imitation of liquid fire. It was times like these when Valjean found himself yearning for artistic talent, or at the very least, a camera.

Rather than vocalize this desire, he instead allowed himself a contented sigh. "Excellent. We can finally resume our afternoon walks. Cosette will be quite pleased."

"She will indeed, but not for the reasons you think."

Valjean whirled to confront the man who had spoken, a total stranger who was somehow inside the house, lurking in the shadows of the atrium.

"It is no use asking who I am," the man stated flatly before Valjean had even thought to speak. "I would not tell you - and besides, you already know."

"I can't say that I do," Valjean retorted sharply. "Perhaps if you would be so kind as to offer me a hint?"

The man shifted his weight slightly and tilted his chin up, causing the light streaming in from the door to hit his eyes. Valjean forcibly repressed a physical reaction of alarm at the sight of them - intense and a harsh, cold red, like jewels. No - not _like_ jewels.

"I have never been considered particularly kind," the stranger hummed, "neither by myself nor others. This is not something that has caused me to lose much sleep at night. You understand."

"I don't find myself particularly inclined to care about your personal amenability," Valjean responded coolly. "My primary concern is that you're in my house when I didn't invite you there, so you would be doing me a very great service if you'd leave."

"All things come to those who wait," the jewel-eyed man mused. "I came here to pick something up. I will leave once it is safely in my possession."

With a growing sense of unease, Valjean approached him. "We have nothing you could possibly want. Leave."

Tilting his head back even further, the man inhaled sharply through his nose, leaving Valjean with the unnerving sensation that he was being sniffed out like prey. "Together? No. But separately, you and that dear girl with passions as bright as her hair serve to uphold a far greater purpose."

Piercing alarm shot through Valjean's heart. "You leave Cosette out of this - "

The stranger swept his arms between the two of them, an openhanded gesture of offering and placation. "Ah, but my friend - Cosette is the reason we're here."

Before Valjean could react to this statement or even realize the impact of the word "we," he abruptly experienced the singularly unpleasant sensation of being electrified. In the direct aftermath, he was only vaguely aware of being caught and gently lowered to the floor as he struggled to remain conscious.

"Do not worry your shaggy old head, pet. She will make an outstanding representative of the cause, in more ways than one. It is truly symbolic, actually. Hair the color of the sun at the dawn of a new age."

The last things Valjean heard were a smug laugh and the sound of the front door clicking shut. Beyond that, everything was darkness.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **And there we have it! Chapter the first! I did try to make this one pretty long, as I have a bad habit of writing fairly short chapters with ridiculously intense cliffhangers. As you can see, I've taken a couple of liberties with the characters; Valjean being an ex-convict didn't really fit in with the plot of this story or with the Avatar 'verse, so I just made him a Hot Single Dad who took unnaturally long to discover his bending. As soon as I set about writing Cosette's description, I was struck by the realization that there are literally zero blonde characters in Avatar at all (to the best of my knowledge) - but Cosette HAS to be blonde, so uh, let's just say she's a genetic anomaly and go with that.

Also, I surprised myself by accidentally making this whole story be from JVJ's point of view! I wasn't expecting that because I rarely write from his POV, but there's a first time for everything, I guess. And since I mentioned movies earlier, I suppose it's worth mentioning that I imagine this Valjean looking like Jackman's M. Madeleine (from the film), but with Jackman's normal hair instead of that weird curly thing he had going on in the film!

As for Javert - don't worry. He's my favorite. He'll turn up next chapter.

Please leave a comment or a kudos (or both) if you enjoyed! I'm really excited about this project and determined to finish it, so if you ever notice it's been 2 weeks and there has been a significant lack of updates, feel free to stage an intervention.


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